Jealousy
by gripsyched
Summary: "You let her paint you." Michiru is not pleased. HxM, oneshot.


Jealousy

Pairing: Haruka Tenou and Michiru Kaiou

AN: oh my god this was so hard to write- I was so conflicted and confused about whether I should give them a happy ending. _OhmygodIwishtheykissedattheend_- Ah... I've been spewing out so much Michiruka crap XD I'm working on another one- a multi-chaptered one, but I'm still undecided about its plot. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for my writing.

Enjoy!

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You are not jealous, no. If you were to call yourself _jealous_, it would be stating that you are feeling rather unhappy that _your best friend_ is attracted to someone else. Now, that would just be wrong on two levels. Firstly, you just _can't_ simply be in love with your best friend. (And even if you do, those feelings are unrequited.) Secondly, (as arrogant as it sounds,) there is no one on Earth who would be able to meet the high standards of Haruka Tenou.

So there. You are not _jealous._ (The phrase sounds so silly, already!) But you _are_ silently raging. The once calm and languid seas are now forcefully crashing upon the rocky cliffs, a whirlpool stirring within its deceptively teal appearance. But you've been trained not to show your anger or irritation, so you simply smile at Setsuna when she regards you with the quirk of an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?" Setsuna finally asks, watching you paint (with a certain tenseness- you are sure that she hasn't missed out on the way your fingers tighten their grip on your poor brush).

"Ara?" You mumble uninterestedly, shooting her a brief glance.

She sighs, and shakes her head- choosing to leave you to your devices. You finally- _consciously_- gaze at your 'artwork', and realise that there is too much yellow on the canvas. You have not yet painted anything recognizable, but you are certain that the yellow is just as soft and light as Haruka's windswept hair. Shaking your head, you sigh and place your palette down. Then again, the yellow is just as sharp and obscene as the shade of Ayumi's hair, and her stupid little bow.

(_You're acting really silly right now, Michi,_ you tease yourself- though not without a hint of bitterness.)

Ayumi Takahashi is a fellow rival artist and musician- it seems as though she was made to rival you; everything that you excelled in, she was right behind, following, targeting. Her snide remarks and arrogant attitude make it rather obvious that she has set her life goal on destroying and overtaking you. It's a really pathetic motivation, and you can't help but feel a little sad for her. Her canvas is flowing with 'artistic techniques', but there is nothing that you can actually feel from it- she does not invest her feelings and worries into her art, choosing instead to let her hatred and envy gush out through the pointed glares she directs in your way.

You dislike her- quite intensely so- because she has thoroughly destroyed and ruined the entire meaning of art. She is a misguided pest, mistakenly and brazenly abusing art. Art is a form of self-expression, and not competition. There is hardly any sense in that.

So when you realise that she has painted Haruka Tenou, your _best friend_, you are simply boiling. How dare she reduce Haruka to a- a _device_ to be judged? How dare she engage Haruka in her silly battles and _paint her without understanding her worth?_ So here you are, fuming- and it does not help that Haruka has agreed to model for her.

(She has never agreed to modeling for _you_.)

You sigh again- knowing that Haruka is free to model for whoever she wants, and that perhaps you are being too prejudiced against Ayumi Takahashi.

"Michi?" Haruka calls out from where she is standing- _unapologetically_ leaning against the frame of the door.

"Hm?"

"What's wrong?" she asks, and you are biting your lip to prevent yourself from screaming at her for agreeing to model for Ayumi Takahashi.

"Ara?" you mumble- though it sounds dangerous and almost- _almost _lets your annoyance slip through.

There is a pause as she regards your stiff posture and downcast eyes. You don't bother to even cover up the frustration that is rolling off you in waves. You are clearly upset, and you're not sure if you want her to do anything.

"What's wrong, Michi?" she strides towards you cautiously.

(You feel as though she _owes_ you this much- she is bound to you- she _belongs_ to you-)

"Nothing," you snap, a little too quickly and harshly.

Her eyes narrow. "I know you better than that."

You force out an unpleasant laugh that makes the both of you freeze. You do not look at her- for fear that she will see the look in your eyes and realise that you are _jealous._ (You are not, you _cannot_ be jealous- she's your best friend!)

"Michiru," she mutters, kneeling on one foot and trying to look into your eyes.

"You let her paint you." The words spill out of your lips before you can stop yourself. "You won't let _me_ paint you."

She regards your statement thoughtfully. "Ayumi Takahashi?"

"Her."

"Not yet- and I didn't mean it-"

"_She_ meant it."

She pushes your hair behind your ears, and you lean into the touch for a second, before flinching away. How many times has she done that to the rest of the female population in school? She sighs, and pulls her hand away.

"Are you… jealous?" she whispers huskily.

You jump, before shaking your head as you rise from the bench, determined to place as much distance as required between the both of you. She's your _only_ friend- you can't ruin it this way.

"You _are_ jealous," she remarks, a little stunned.

"Perhaps," you admit. "You're my best friend."

There. You've done it. She is staring at you incredulously, and if you didn't know better- with disappointment. And that moment vanishes as her eyes narrow. You've hurt her.

"Best friend, huh," she says acridly, standing up.

Right now, the words are stuck in your throat- your mind is in a mess and you aren't sure of what to do. An impulse of telling her that you really, really like her runs through your mind, and your heart is palpitating wildly- a sudden moisture blurs your vision- you've been so, so silly.

"Michi?" her voice is softer this time as she glances worriedly into your face.

(You've never cried in front of anyone before.)

"Oh," you say- realising that there are actual tears rolling down your cheeks. "Oh. Oh. _Oh._ I'm crying, aren't I?"

"You're so silly, Michi," she chuckles.

You contemplate confessing to her, while her hand is cupping your cheek, and another is holding you close- but then again, you're sure that she already knows. Words are not necessary- and you think that saying it aloud, announcing it, will only make it irretrievable and resolute. There isn't enough time for this- not yet- not until Crystal Tokyo has been formed, no.

So instead you smile through your tears, and mutter, "Perhaps."

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Reviews will be greatly appreciated!


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